I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight
by weirdmixofsodapopanddallas
Summary: It is two years after the book. Darry runs into a girl he thinks is beautiful, but can never be his. Or can she? What will be the consequences, really? Well, he definitely never thought it would be losing Soda...


_Author's Note: Ok, if you hate me by the end of this, I will understand. I sort of hated myself while writing this. It was painful, to say the least. Now, just so we're all clear, this story is set two years after the book and is based off the song 'I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight' by Cutting Crew. I highly recommend you listen to it if you haven't, it's an incredible song. That is, if you're a huge fan of the eighties like me ;)_

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders, just the story line and the characters you don't recognize**

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW (and don't be too mean about the events that are about to take place)**_

DARRY'S POV

She was beautiful. She wanted me, and I wanted her. And she belonged to somebody else.

Ethan Cummings, the toughest hood left in town since Dallas died and Tim Shepard got life for killing the leader of the Brumly Boys, had this girlfriend. Her name was Cassandra Blair. She had to be one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. Long, wavy brown hair all the way down to her waist, a figure like I'd never seen on anyone else, and the deepest blue eyes.

We made a mistake. A mistake we shouldn't've made. Ethan was in jail again, and she was lonely, and I ran into her outside a bar. We went in, had a few drinks, one thing led to another, and she suddenly had two men. Who would've thought that a boy like me could come to this?

I didn't tell anyone. Nobody could know. Not Ponyboy, not Soda, not Steve, not Two-Bit, and especially not Ethan.

We did this for a few months, but finally, Ethan found us.

We were in bed when he opened the door and came in. Her diary was on the bedside table. I don't know why that stuck out so much, but I suddenly wondered if there was anything about me in there. Anything Ethan would find out by reading it.

He was so angry, I thought he was gonna tear my head off. He threw me out of Cassandra's apartment, swearing to get me and make me feel pain like I'd never felt. Pain I hadn't known a human could feel.

I knew I shouldn't've done it. I knew I was wrong. I was just too... well, I dunno. It was thrilling. It was like a fantasy. Even when I knew I should've ended it, I didn't. She made it easy. She made it right. But that doesn't change that I should've walked away.

I didn't think Ethan would get me back the way he did. I expected him to come after me. But he knew that the best way to get me was something different.

And he went after Sodapop.

I heard shouting one night as me and Steve and Two-Bit and Ponyboy walked down the street. Then I heard blows landing and someone crying out. I knew that voice very well. We all did. We started running toward the alley it was coming from without question.

Sodapop

We turned the corner and found five guys from Ethan's gang, Ethan included, holding Soda up against the wall and pounding him. His mouth was bleeding, there was blood pouring down from his hairline, and a large slash in the front of his t-shirt, through which we could see a long, thin cut, obviously caused by a switchblade.

We started forward. Ethan saw us and gave me a wolfish smile.

He whipped a syringe out from underneath his jacket and plunged it into the crook of Soda's elbow, shooting him up with heaven knows what. The syringe clattered to the alley floor as they all ran.

Soda stood there for a second, looking shocked, then crumpled to the ground.

I ran forward and dropped to my knees at his side and pulled him into my lap, his head against my shoulder. His eyes were wide and glazed, staring up at the stars, his hands were shaking violently, and his breath was coming in herky-jerky waves.

The others knelt down next to us. "Darry, he's ODing." Steve said.

"You think I don't know that?" I snapped angrily.

Right then, Ethan stuck his head back around the corner. "I warned you, Curtis. I told you I'd make you feel pain like you've never felt. Pain you didn't know a human could feel. This is my payback." And then he was gone.

Steve jumped up and ran after him.

"Steve!" Two-Bit shouted, and went too, leaving me, Ponyboy, and Soda alone.

"Pone," I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a quarter, "go find a payphone. Call an ambulance."

He nodded and ran off faster than I'd ever seen him go, and considering how many track meets I'd been to, that was saying something.

"Hang on, Pepsi-Cola. Hang on." I whispered in Soda's ear, holding him close. He's started shaking more violently, his whole body trembling instead of just his hands. His breathing seemed more labored. Whatever Ethan shot him up with, it worked fast. He didn't have long.

His hand closed around my wrist. "Dar...ry." he managed to force out.

"It's okay, baby, I'm here, I'm here. Don't talk. Save your energy.

I could hear Ponyboy shouting at whoever was on the other end of the payphone he'd managed to find. I think there was one just around the corner. I couldn't remember just then.

Soda's breath hitched and ceased. The look in his eyes was confused.

I cupped my hand around his cheek. "Breathe, Sodapop. C'mon. You need to breathe, right now."

He couldn't. He was trying, but he couldn't. His body was shaking worse than ever. His dark eyes were pleading as he stared up at me. He thought I could make it better. But I couldn't. Not this time.

He was too young. He didn't deserve to die. He'd finally gotten engaged. He was going to have a baby. He was going to be happy.

And now, suddenly, he wasn't.

His hand went slack and fell from my wrist as his eyes gently closed. He stopped shaking.

I started crying and laid my head on his chest, listening as his heart stopped beating.

And then I was alone. Alone with my nineteen-year-old brother. Listening to what I think was Steve killing Ethan while Two-Bit tried to stop him. Listening as Ponyboy came running over, shouting, urgently asking if Soda was okay. Alone with the knowledge that my sweet little brother was dead. Alone with the knowledge that I was the one who'd done it.

Alone, knowing I'd killed him as sure as if I'd shoved that syringe into his arm.

 _Author's afterthought: PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!_

 _(and please review)_


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